


the night wolf cometh

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Cora, Alive Laura, Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, Hale family - Freeform, M/M, Mermaid Lydia, Minor Character Death, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Supernatural Apocalypse Dystopia, bear spirit isaac, forest spirit melissa, half-deer allison, night wolf derek, rabbit spirit stiles, shifting pov, wardens are hunters, wolf spirit scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: “Night Wolf of the forest, with your coat so dark and adorned with stars. I have many wishes, many dreams, but please don’t ask me to make a wish. I will run, run as hard as I can, so that I may live and fulfill my dreams.”--His eyes glow bright blue. His coat is darker than night, darker than any shadow. Stiles is certain those are stars twisted into the creature’s coat. His finger twitch with the desire to run through the Night Wolf’s fur to see how the fur and stars would feel. Stiles wonders how many constellations lie on the wolf’s back. And do they change with the night sky? Do they feel hot or cold? The wolf tips its head, the large star on its forehead winking at Stiles. “Make a wish.” It demands.





	1. Won’t You Wrap The Night Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired from [these stunning (nsfw-ish) set of illustrations](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/93193661210/sunworldstories-by-chiara-bautista-we-are) by [Chiara Bautista. ](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork)

The forest is big and vast and dark. The trees are thick and strong, offering shelter and protection to all the creatures who live there. Stiles’ earliest memory is of staring up, squinting at the silver moonlight sneaking through the dense foliage.  
  


He remembers sitting in his mother’s lap, small hands raised up to catch the moon beams, listening to her sing to the rabbits around them, telling them of all the creatures they must live with.  
  


“Remember the hart, fleet footed and fast,” she sings, “Be careful of the eagle, swift and cunning. Avoid the fox, sly and quiet. Respect the Night Wolf, above all others.”  
  


–  
  


_Derek grumbles Stiles’ never respected him._  
  


–  
  


Stiles smiles at the memory, singing his mother’s song to his herd. The rabbits noses twitch hard, ears straight up in attention at the familiar title. Everyone knows the Night Wolf. It protects everyone in the forest but few have seen it. The creature is said to be as tall as the oldest oak in the forest, twice as smart and meaner than a bear after a poor winters sleep.   
  


One of the rabbits hops forward. Puts her paw on Stiles’ ankle and asks Stiles to sing to them about the Night Wolf. Stiles adjusts his rabbits mask, pushes it up so he can glance down at the pure white rabbit and smile. Tall ears quiver in happiness as Stiles sings.  
  


“Night Wolf of the forest, with your coat so dark and adorned with stars. I have many wishes, many dreams, but please don’t ask me to make a wish. I will run, run as hard as I can, so that I may live and fulfill my dreams.”  
  


–  
  


_Stiles never ran._  
  


–  
  


Sometimes, on hot summer nights, when the fireflies are lazy and complacent, Stiles puts on shadow puppet shows for his herd. He’ll throw a thin white sheet over a vine tied between two branches and use his hands to make a poor wolf shadow that dances across the white sheet.   
  


He’ll growl and lunge at the rabbit who dares to come too close to the sheet, saying, “Make a wish little rabbit, I’ll fulfill it for you for the cost of your soul!”  
  


The rabbits love being scared like that. They beg him almost every night to tell the story but Stiles has other responsibilities to tend too. And friends to meet as well. He needs to make sure his herd has enough food, that Scott and Allison and Lydia are doing well with their own families, that his dad isn’t pushing himself too hard keeping an eye on the forest.  
  


The fireflies don’t enjoy the stories however. They fly into his mask, warning him that the Night Wolf might hear, might misunderstand and demand recompense. Stiles literally waves them away with a scowl. “He’ll only know if you tattle!”  
  


–  
  


_Stiles never asked how Derek found him._  
  


–  
  


One of Kira’s foxes had told him about a lovely big patch of clovers his herd would enjoy. Stiles wastes no time loading his rabbits into his creaky red pull cart and taking them there. They love clovers, and keep squeaking so throughout their journey.  
  


Stiles sits back against a tree, sleepily watching his rabbits eat to their hearts content. He plucks a flower out of the ground, twirls it around in his fingers even as he smells its sweet scent. The soft, hot breeze causes the leaves to tremble and shake noisily. It makes Stiles’ skin break out in gooseflesh.  
  


It’s not right.  
  


Something is not right.  
  


One of the bush shakes, causing several rabbits to raise their head in alarm. Stiles sits up as well, elbows pressing into his knees as he stares at the bush. Could it be one of Scott’s wolves trying to play? It could be Isaac too. He’s fond of playing pranks. Bears, Stiles’ never liked them before and after meeting Isaac he likes them even less.  
  


But the shape that emerges from the foliage, is not Stiles’ friend.  
  


He holds his breath at the sight of the large wolf standing before him.  
  


All of his mother’s songs do not do the Night Wolf justice.  
  


His eyes glow bright blue. His coat is darker than night, darker than any shadow. Stiles is certain those are  _stars_ twisted into the creature’s coat. His finger twitch with the desire to run through the Night Wolf’s fur to see how the fur and stars would feel. Stiles wonders how many constellations lie on the wolf’s back. And do they change with the night sky? Do they feel hot or cold? __  
  
  


The wolf tips its head, the large star on its forehead winking at Stiles. “Make a wish.” It demands.  
  


–  
  


_Derek sighs and acts like fulfilling Stiles’ wish, staying with him, is a chore but Stiles knows better._  
  


–  
  


He asks the Night Wolf to keep them company, to protect them from some of the more dangerous, vindictive creatures out there. Like the Kanima and it’s master.   
  


The Night Wolf, or Derek as he likes to be called, agrees easily.  
  


Stiles quietly thinks Derek’s easy agreement was because he’s lonely. Aloud he brags about being excellent company. Derek snorts and shoves Stiles away. The rabbits hop excitedly around Derek, always keeping a respectful distance even as they ask the wolf a million questions.  
  


It’s only when the wolf is seated so the rabbits feel courageous enough to come right up to him. Only the most adventurous ones dare to creep between his paws and ask him about the constellations sparkling on his fur. Derek answers with a gruff kind of kindness that has Stiles’ stifling his laughter behind a warm palm.  
  


Lydia sends one of her birds to observe them once. It’s eye sockets are empty but it sees all. Stiles knows this. The skeletal bird warbles a deep note, warm and happy, when Derek slips up behind Stiles and curls his warm body around the spirit.  
  


Stiles eyes the tail in his lap and the wolf around him, the one acting like it’s nothing special they’re all but wrapped around each other. “Don’t you tell Lydia about this.” Stiles warns the bird. It responds by spreading it’s boney wings and flying away.  
  


Later, Lydia will laugh at him and tease him, “You sleep with the night wrapped around you and still cannot see how bright the stars shine.”  
  


–  
  


_Stiles vehemently denies being oblivious an the others do not humor him one bit._  
  


–  
  


Derek raises his head off his paws to watch Stiles. Stiles pretends he didn’t see that. He keeps his attention on the leaf in his hand, on the message he’s carefully writing on it.   
  


His message is already four leaves long. Stiles will have to send Lydia’s song bird away and ask Scott or Danny for help. Or maybe Allison. Her eagles are swift and reliable when it comes to bearing messages. And unlike Scott’s wolves, uncaring of the messages they carry.   
  


_‘I might still love you… Probably. Maybe my love has changed. I think it has. I love you but not the way I used to. Not the way I do love Derek.’_    
  


Stiles sighs, carefully rolls the leaves and ties them together with the longest blade of grass he can find before asking one of his rabbits to give this to Allison.   
  


He watches the rabbit hop away, tail a bright spot of white against the inky darkness.   
  


“What was that about?” Derek asks.  
  


Stiles shakes his head, “Nothing. Do you want to go for a run?”  
  


He jumps to his feet, yelling at Derek to catch him if he can.   
  


Derek races past him quickly, coat sparkling as he does so.  
  


–  
  


_Their story began with Derek finding Stiles and began again when Stiles chased Derek in return._  
  


–  
  


Stiles’ hand hover uncertainly over the many cuts littering Derek’s body. “Should I call Deaton? Or Melissa?” Stiles asks, words tumbling over each other in their haste. “They’re both good healers, they’ll have you right as rain in no time.”  
  


The liquid that seeps out of the wounds is like starlight. Stiles wonders if Derek’s blood tastes the same as his own. Or would it taste like stardust, iron, and the universe?  
  


Derek’s pained whine pulls him away from his strange thought. “I just need to rest.” The wolf drags himself forward, leaving behind a long smear of silver on the forest floor.   
  


Stiles pushes Derek down, hands tight against the wolf’s muzzle. “Stop moving! You’ll kill yourself!”  
  


The wolf huffs and turns its mouth into Stiles’ palm, grumbling, “I won’t die at the hands of an egotistical murderer and it’s creature.”  
  


Looking over at the shadows where Matt’s dead body lies, Stiles feels his stomach roil. His hands begin to shake at the memory of the Kanima coming out of nowhere to attack Derek. The echo of Matts gloats hover in his head. Stiles knows he’ll be having nightmares about tonight for a while.  
  


“You’d better not,” Stiles grumbles, leaning down to press a kiss to the star burning brightly in the middle of Derek’s forehead. He ignores the way his cheeks burn as a result, and the confused noise Derek lets out. “I still haven’t told you how much I like you.”  
  


Derek begin to say something but Stiles loudly tells his herd their stupid wolf is hurt so someone need to go fetch Melissa.  
  


–  
  


_Derek maintains their relationship started from that night but Stiles insists it started a week after that when he quietly whispered his love into Derek’s ear and Derek shifted into his human form to kiss Stiles’ quiet._  
  


–  
  


Stiles’ delight and shock after finding out Derek had another form had been amusing. His shy-annoyance whenever Derek would push Stiles’ rabbit mask up and steal a kiss, even more so.  
  


“It’s not funny,” Stiles hisses, slapping a hand against Derek’s shoulder.  
  


The wolf grins, all teeth and good humor, “It is to me.”  
  


“Your sense of humor is broken,” Stiles sniffs, adjusting his mask back to it’s proper place, on his forehead at just the right angle to shade his eyes.  
  


Derek bends down to scoop one of the rabbits up, gently tapping it’s twitching nose before murmuring something that makes the rabbit all but vibrate in glee.  
  


“What did you tell him?” Stiles asks in confusion, wondering what could make the rabbit hop away so fast, so eagerly towards the others.  
  


Half shrugging, Derek stands next to Stiles and slides an arm around his waist. “That I knew of a place where giant clovers grow.”  
  


Quickly a dubious eyebrow, Stiles says, “I don’t believe you.”  
  


“Care to make a wager on that?”  
  


–  
  


_Much to Stiles’ irritation, Derek wins._  
  


–  
  


Stiles and his herd explore the forest with Derek as their guide.  
  


They cross rivers and streams, the rabbits huddled together on Derek’s back as he paddles from one shore to another while Stiles shakily walks across a makeshift bridge made from a fallen tree.  
  


They meet all kinds of creatures, spirits and monsters.  
  


He meets Derek’s friends: Boyd, Erica and, surprise surprise, Isaac.   
  


Stiles finds them interesting individuals and privately thinks it will take some time for them to get along. (Although with Isaac Stiles believes they'll  _never_ get along.)  
  


He meets Derek’s enemies: Deucalion, Kali, Ethan, Aidan and Ennis.  
  


Stiles doesn’t like the look of any of them, and hisses so to Derek as soon as the pack is out of sight. Derek shakes off his wolf form, grimaces and agrees with Stiles.  
  


He pays his respect to Derek’s parents, placing the biggest dandelions he could find on their grave markers.  
  


Silently he promises to take good care of Derek.  
  


He meets Derek’s sisters: Laura and Cora.  
  


Stiles finds Cora stand offish and Laura slightly overbearing. But they’re Derek’s only remaining family so he tries his best, for Derek’s sake.  
  


–  
  


_Stiles continues to maintain that Cora hates him while Derek insists that’s how Cora shows her love._  
  


–  
  


Some nights Stiles goes to sleep holding Derek’s human shaped body in his arms. He’ll wrap his arms around the wolf and pull him down into the fragrant grass. Sometimes he goes to sleep on top of Derek, sometimes Derek uses him for a pillow and sometimes they fall asleep lying side by side.  
  


Other nights he falls asleep against the body of a giant, star speckled wolf deity. Derek will settle down first and wait for Stiles to curl up against him before try and groom Stiles’ wild hair into some semblance of order. Meanwhile Stiles will trace his favorite constellations against Derek’s fur until he sinks into darkness. He likes both equally.  
  


He loves the ache which spreads in his chest whenever Derek will lie next to him and close his eyes. The trust which Derek shares so sparingly feels so sweet and  _significant._ He curls his hand into Derek’s hair or fur, watches his herd flop down against Derek or nuzzle against him before drifting off to sleep.   
  


Trust is a two way street after all.  
  


The map Stiles has been making of the forest, marking down major landmarks, pack locations etc. etc. becomes their blanket. Stiles loves presses his face against Derek’s, falling asleep while matching his breathing with the wolf’s, mask pulled down over his eyes.  
  


In the morning however, Stiles _loves_ waking up next to a two legged Derek. He loves rubbing against Derek, pushing him down or being pushed down before stealing a few (hundred) kisses. He loves the feel of Derek’s hands sliding over his naked skin. Loves the way Derek’s nudity feels against his own. Loves the way Derek loves him, over and over again.  
  


~~His~~ Their herd develops the good sense to hop away as soon as things start getting hot and heavy, warily peeking around a tree or a bush much later to check if they’re done. Stiles weakly teases Derek about scaring the kids and Derek always pinches Stiles’ side as retribution. Sometimes their play fighting devolves into more love making. Other times, it doesn't.  
  


Once the sun is out, they begin their journey anew. Derek talking about the territory and the creatures living there, the rabbits hovering at the edges of the red pull cart, their eyes and ears alert as they study their surroundings.  
  


They wind up travelling around the whole forest, meeting Stiles’ father thrice while doing so. The first time, Stiles and Derek have only recently met. The second time, Stiles had been in love with Derek but not confessed his feelings. The third time, they’d agree to commit to each other.  
  


The man welcomes Derek to the herd, wryly asking him if he’s certain about his choice.  
  


Stiles’ angry squawk cuts off mid-way when Derek smiles and says, “I am.”  
  


–  
  


_Together they roam the forest many times over, keeping watch on all who live there and eventually settle in a little hovel midway between both their homes._  
  


–  
  


“We should wake up.” Stiles murmurs into Derek’s chest, nuzzling the chest hair there. He feels Derek’s hardness poking against his thigh and smiles. Mmm, yes, Derek’s two legged form is the best.  
  


Derek sleepily mumbles something, hand tightening around Stiles’ shoulder.  
  


Chuckling, Stiles asks, “What did you say?”  
  


“Later.” Derek says in a slightly louder voice, using his second hand to hitch one of Stiles’ legs over his hips. Stiles’ hard length drags against the groove of Derek’s hip and Stiles thinks,  _'Yes. Later.’_


	2. Past & Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Jettie for being my quick sounding board and helping me flesh this verse out. For helping me with the names and being just so great altogether <3

Derek remembers sitting next to his siblings, staring up with rapt attention at their father as he gave them their daily history lesson. They were all going to be Guardian’s one day. It was important they knew where they came from, as their father was fond of saying.  


Today’s lesson, is one of Derek’s favorite stories.   


“There was a time when man roamed the Earth freely and all magic remained hidden,” His father peers carefully at his children, gaze lingering on Laura when she tries to poorly stifle her bored yawn. “Humans were unaware of the existence of magic and other magical creatures. Until the day came when everyone knew.”  


Cora interjects, “How did everyone know?”  


Their father shakes his head, dark beard glimmering thanks to his pelt. Derek looks at the twinkling stars in his father’s pelt and wonders if his own will carry so many bright stars. “No one remembers. Some say it was an accident. Others say it was deliberate.”  


“Who would willingly reveal the existence of magic to  _humans_?” Laura scoffs loudly, hind leg reaching up to scratch under her muzzle. “It had to have been an accident.”  


His second brother, who is between Laura and Cora in age (and the current seating), immediately argues, “If it was an accident, it would have been covered up easily. It  _had_ to be deliberate.”  


Before the pair can start arguing, thankfully, their father interrupts. “It no longer matters  _how_ it happened. The point is it  _did_ happen. And the humans took it poorly. We tried to live in harmony but humans are scared, paranoid creatures. It wasn’t too long until we were at war.”  


Derek holds his breath, trying his best to picture the tale in his mind. But it’s difficult to imagine things you’ve never seen. There are no pictures, no books. Stories and tales are all they have left. And a few relics that nature hasn’t reclaimed.  


Unless of course he somehow manages to make his way to one of the human cities. Which is impossible.  


“This was centuries and centuries ago,” His father continues solemnly. “Too many people died, on both sides and Mother Dearest grew weary of being stained red. She returned to the surface to restore balance.”  


His brother speaks up again, tone curious, “The Druids say the war stopped because of a spell that turned the sky dark. That someone used the power of many Nemeton’s to restore the natural balance.”  


Laura huffs loudly, the brightest star which sits right behind her right ear, like a twinkling flower, glinting. “Ask a different person and you hear a different story. Mermaids’ll tell you the war stopped because of a tsunami. The Wardens say humans used something called ‘ke-mi-kals’. We believe in Mother Dearest. It doesn’t matter. The point is-”  


“It happened,” Derek and Cora say in unison.   


Their father beams with pride.  


–  


[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/pb.558917134161144.-2207520000.1407192610./567915963261261/?type=3&theater)] [[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/693058394080350/?type=3&theater)]  


The Wardens garner a healthy amount of fearful respect by anyone who lives in the forest. It doesn’t matter what forest you live in, there will be a Warden there to protect them all from the humans.   


As long as anyone can remember, every forest has it’s own Wardens. They’re different from people like Stiles’ dad, from Sheriff’s. Where Sheriff’s keep the local riff raff in check, the Wardens protect them from greater threats. From the humans (and from Rabids).  


Not that they’re at war anymore that they need protecting. But better safe than sorry, that’s what all Wardens will tell you with a stomp of their hooves. They’ll subtly show off their weapon and trot away, on two legs or four, claiming they have business to attend too.  


Their own humble forest is 'looked after’ by the Argent family. But as is the custom, everyone refers to them as the Wardens.   


Many moons ago, there used to be three of them - Victoria, Kate and Allison. Stiles has vague memories of the first two but is good friends with Allison thanks to Scott. Derek however, has clear memories of all three.  


“I remember Victoria and Kate meeting my mother,” Derek tells him as their small group travels past a faery ring. “Victoria was tall, with four hooves. A true centaur. Kate was upright with tawny fur. Half deer.”  


Stiles thinks of Allison and how she’s upright too, hind legs so delicate and fragile looking (but holding enough power to kill someone if they were stupid enough to get within her kicking range). He wonders what kind of terrible things she must have heard growing up for being stagnant.  


In their world, where change is the constant and norm, being stuck in one form is considered unnatural. Which is why most of them avoid humans, merpeople  _and_ all -taurs. They are all considered agents of disorder.  


Stiles scoffs at the notions. Allison is just like the rest of them - trying to survive in their strange little world. It doesn’t matter if she’s got deer legs or not, she’s the same as anyone else.   


“Do you remember anything else about them?” Stiles carefully pulls his red cart around a rock in his path. No sense in dislodging any of his squeaking rabbits.  


Derek pauses, stars dulling for a moment before he admits, “A lot. Kate and I. We… We were together briefly.”  


A strange pang shoots through his heart. Stiles raises a hand to his chest, checking if he hasn’t been piercing by a wayward arrow. He hasn’t.  


“Oh,” He says, starting when he realizes, in his fit of absentmindedness, he’s driven the cart over the rock and a rabbit has fallen out of the cart. It’s brethren are squeaking in distress, the rabbit itself rolling over on all fours before it begins its attempts to hop back into the too high cart.  


Derek immediately walks over to the distressed rabbit who is trying to hop its way back into the dull colored cart. He offers his muzzle to the creature, giving it a little boost so that it dives right into the middle of its brothers and sisters.  


“I’m the reason why one of her antlers is broken.”  


His memory flashes back to the one and only time he’s met Warden Kate. She had come out of the shadows, a giant gun slung over her shoulders carelessly as she greeted Stiles’ father, “Sheriff. Fancy seeing you around these parts.”  


Stiles recalls the pale gold of her hair, a rarity in these times, overshadowed by the fact that her left antler was broken. The stump was a few inches tall, decorated by a thin scrap of blue as dark as the night.  


He stares at Derek, mouth opening to ask what why when where  _how_ but Derek shakes his head, “I’ll tell you later. I promise.”  


“You’d better,” Stiles says.  


–  


[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/745318195521036/?type=3&theater)]  


If they weren’t lost Stiles would be amused by Derek’s antics but lost they are and he’s not amused by the way the Night Wolf keeps trying to poke his way  _through_ Stiles’ map.  


“Stop that!” He chides his mate, pushing his bunny mask up on top of his head so that he can properly look the map over, “You’ll tear the map!”  


He hears Derek pant-laugh from the other side of the paper, “Like you don’t have another copy made.”  


Stiles scowls because that’s besides the point. That is a back up! For emergencies! It is a 'just in case’ map! It doesn’t mean Derek gets to be  _Derek_ with their main map which Stiles is so carefully constructing!  


The Night Wolf noses at the map again. This time, Stiles pokes the bump in his map hard to discourage Derek, “Stop that! Come over here and help me figure out where we are.”  


Derek huffs loudly. Stiles anticipates and waits for the starry wolf to trot around the map, sit down next to him and help. He does  _not_ expect Derek to look  _over_ the map and lower his head slightly, tongue lolling out mischievously at Stiles’ startled face.  


“My map!” Stiles wails, quickly removing it away from Derek’s slobber. The Night Wolf barks in amusement, their rabbits sitting up, ears and noses high with interest. “I’m going to get you for that! If this map is ruined I’m going to throw you into the next lake we find!” Stiles threatens, frantically looking around for some leaves to wipe away the few spots of drool that have made their way onto his map.  


The Night Wolf barks again in laughter, bumping his head into Stiles’ ribs, “You worry too much.” He teases, shifting into his two legged form before throwing his pelt around Stiles to capture him.  


Eyeing his mate suspiciously, Stiles slowly says, “You’re in a good mood. Did you open the draught Lydia gave me?”  


Derek hums pleasantly, lying Stiles down on the hard ground, “I found a patch of anise flowers.”  


Anise flowers? How interesting. Stiles slides his hands up Derek’s toned arm and purrs, “Tell me more.”  


–  


“You call yourself a Guardian right?” Stiles asks one night, turning over so that he is facing Derek.  


The Night Wolf keeps his face tucked between his paws, mindful of the rabbits sleeping there, but opens one eye to examine Stiles, “Yes. I come from a long line of Guardians. We have always been on this land.”  


Stiles wriggles forward, letting out a happy noise when Derek’s tail lands over his bare legs. “I don’t understand something,” He waits for Derek to make a questioning noise before asking, “What is the difference between you and the Wardens. Seems to me you both do the same thing.”  


Derek sighs. His body rises and falls, causing his stars to glimmer, “The Wardens hunt. I protect.”  


“That’s too simplistic,” Stile argues because for him the world isn’t so simple. On his bad days Derek agrees with Stiles when he says the world is nothing but shades of gray and grey. On his good days, Derek likes to keep things simple. Like his mother taught him.  


He raises one shoulder in a shrug, “That is the fundamental difference between us. We protect the forest and everyone on it. We do our best to look after everyone without interfering too much. The Wardens go where they please, hunt who they want. All in the name of a war long dead.”  


“Why doesn’t anyone stop them?” Stiles’ eyes find his, sharp in their curiosity, “Why don’t you?”  


Derek considers this a moment before replying, “They are too many of them. They also have weapons. Bows, arrows, swords.  _Guns_.” There aren’t many Wardens who carry the loud weapons. There are few who dare to steal from the humans. But Kate was one of them. Derek wonders where her guns are now. If they’re in the hands of another Warden or if the humans reclaimed them.  


“The cost of another war would be too great,” Derek presses his nose against Stiles’ hot cheek and sighs. “It’s not worth it.”  


“An uneasy peace is better than all out war, huh?” Stiles muses to himself before sighing as well. “It’s a good thing Allison isn’t anything like her family. Or else our forest would be a really bad place to live in.”  


–  


Isaac looks up from the souvenir Stiles has brought from him after his latest trip away from home and dryly asks, “Aren’t you tired of all your travels? Don’t you want to be like other rabbits and just settle down?”  


Stiles huffs and rolls his eyes. Clearly this isn’t the first time he’s been asked his question.  


Isaac doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get the appeal of always travelling, always walking, wandering around like some… some…migratory bird! He’s got his nice den, his territory with the good stream where a lot of fish are and he loves it.   


What’s so good about always being on the move with your herd? He doesn’t get it.  


Speaking of whom, Isaac wonders where they all are. Probably with Derek someplace. He wonders how Derek deals with the chattering rabbit. An age ago the Night Wolf had said he didn’t want company on his travels. Isaac wonders what made him change his mind.  


His gaze return to Stiles, who is leaning over to demonstrate something with the trinket he’s gotten for Lydia. The mermaid is listening with rapt attention, pulling her long hair over one shoulder before she allows Stiles to place the necklace around her neck.  


Two of her birds flit down from their high perches, landing on the ground next to Stiles before they peep curiously at their mistresses new bauble. Lydia shows her necklace off while Stiles tries to pet the skeleton birds without scaring them away.  


Perhaps it’s not ’ _what_ changed Derek’s mind’ as much as a 'who’.   


The rabbit spirit sticks his nose up in the air at Isaac’s question. So high his mask almost falls off his head and into the water. “I  _like_ to travel! I don't  _want_ to settle down! Neither does my herd!”  


Lydia giggles, fingers rolling her new chain around her fingers, “It would be more accurate to say you are too curious for your own good, which is why you always travel. You thirst for knowledge.”  


Her melodious voice calls to Isaac, like a distant kind of longing. He wants to shift into his true self and lumber up to her. He’d dwarf her in size but she wouldn’t be intimidated by the sight of a hulking bear coming up to her. Isaac is sure of this. She’d be curious about him and sing-ask him to join her under the water.  


He shakes his head, telling himself to be careful. Lydia’s voice  _still_ carries power, even if she doesn’t intend to use it on her friends.   


“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Miss. I-learned-magik-to-spell-birds-so-that-I-could-learn-about-land-creatures!” Stiles hisses.  


Isaac watches the tips of Lydia’s hair curl on top of the water. He wonders if she’s ever eaten oranges and if she’d like the tart flavor of them. Perhaps when it is spring he’ll fetch her some.  


“I don’t have to leave the comfort of my home to learn,” Lydia sings snootily, flicking water at Stiles. “My method is effective. Yours, is troublesome.”  


“And tiring,” Isaac contributes.  


Stiles makes an explosive angry noise before grabbing a fist full of grass he throws at Isaac, “A person who has never ventured out of his own territory has no paw to stand on!” He declares. “At least  _try_ to travel before passing judgement!”  


Scowling, the bear spirit holds his hands up, “No thank you. I like my den too much to leave it."   


Lydia titters, necklace flashing as she drifts away from Stiles, "It would be difficult to travel with a spirit who sleeps for several months at a stretch.”  


“You should give up on trying to convince the rest of us,” Isaac grins at the annoyed groan Stiles lets out before flopping down on the ground. “We don’t have the same wanderlust you have.”  


“I’ll convince you lot yet,” Stiles pledges up at the sky.  


Lydia and Isaac share a commiserating look but do not say anything else.


	3. Glow

[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/pb.558917134161144.-2207520000.1407288570./670540752998781/?type=3&theater)]

 

A shocky wheeze slips out his muzzle when Stiles falls down  _on his back_ , saying, “Let me tell you a story about you and me.”  
  


The Night Wolf turns his head around. He can’t see Stiles’ face because they are almost head to head with the way Stiles is currently lying but Derek _can_ see the bound paper thing in the spirit’s hands.  
  


They had passed through the wreckage of a large fallen metal bird today, meaning their small herd had spent quite a while investigate the wreckage. The rabbits and Stiles had poked around quite a bit before finding a small pile of thin handfuls of paper bound together. Stiles had carelessly flipped through them all before picking out the few which had drawings in them.   
  


This one is colored red, the insides painted every color Derek knows of. He catches sight of the tiny bird illustration and snorts loudly, “That’s a cygnet.”  
  


“Use your imagination,” Stiles retorts, kicking Derek’s rump under the guise of steadying himself before he crosses his legs.   
  


Huffing once more, Derek grumbles under his breath about being a fearsome Guardian of the Forest, not some rug for the rabbit spirit to abuse. Stiles ignores him, cheerfully rattling off a story Derek and the rabbits (and Lydia and Scott and  _everyone they know)_ knows by heart.  
  


Only Derek’s turned into a lonely baby swan who had been wandering the forest all alone before finding Stiles. Derek shakes his head , wolf mouth turned up at the corners in amusement. His mate will never cease to amaze him, in all kinds of ways.  
  


“And then Derek found us and he was the happiest swan there was!” Stiles finishes, slapping the bound paper shut before turning over to hug Derek’s neck. The way Stiles nuzzles into his neck has Derek turning his face around to lick the spirit’s face gently.   
  


Stiles lifts his face to kiss his wolf’s nose and murmurs, “But the Night Wolf’s happiness could not compare to the joy the Rabbit found at finally having a Guardian to protect him during his long desired journey.”  
  


He shifts, because he  _must_  kiss Stiles. His pelt falls down on the floor, arms wrapping tight around Stiles’ smooth back. Derek’ fingertips slide up in a gentle caress before they sink into Stiles’ thick hair, “My happiness cannot be described in words. Is yours more than that?”  
  


“Oh yes,” Stiles chirps, pulling his mask off and letting it fall down on Derek’s shimmering pelt. “My happiness is most certainly greater than yours.”  
  


Derek rolls his eyes before asking, “ _Must_ you turn everything into a competition?"  __  
  
  


With a cheeky grin, Stiles runs the tip of his nose along his mate’s beard and murmurs, "But it’s so much _fun_ seeing you scowl when I do.”  
  


“Brat."   
  


"Grump.”  
  


–

  
[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/pb.558917134161144.-2207520000.1407288524./721203114599211/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Ffbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net%2Fhphotos-ak-xfp1%2Ft31.0-8%2F966181_721203114599211_8186769276376737741_o.jpg&smallsrc=https%3A%2F%2Ffbcdn-sphotos-f-a.akamaihd.net%2Fhphotos-ak-xfp1%2Ft31.0-8%2Fs960x960%2F966181_721203114599211_8186769276376737741_o.jpg&size=1602%2C2048&fbid=721203114599211)]

Humans may have once ruled the Earth and walked openly on it but now, they keep to their cities. To their warded, domed structured protected with magik and guns and what not. Stiles has only heard stories of the cities and imagines a giant bubble filled with cold stone and little greenery. An anti-thesis of the forest, if you will.  
  


However, every so often, there are humans who leave their city. Usually humans travel in caravans, believing that strength in numbers will protect them from some of the more dangerous creatures roaming the twilight.  
  


Derek tells him once about a caravan he had observed from afar. He explains to Stiles the strange creatures the humans sat in - boxed shaped with round legs that roll as they move. Some big enough to hold many humans at the same time! There was even one with an elephant like nose prodding from the top!  
  


“If we’re lucky and careful, we might see one one day.” Derek promises.  
  


Stiles waits for Derek’s signal before walking over the red creature his mate has deemed safe enough for their herd to approach. The rabbit’s ears are up, quivering with cautious excitement as the pull cart rolls to a halt a few feet away from the creature.  
  


“What  _is_ this?” Stiles asks, staring at the flowers blooming out of the creatures gaping maw. One of the more adventurous rabbits hops out of the cart and makes its way to one of the hind legs. It lacks the same black material covering the front legs. The rabbit squeaks up at Stiles to point this out.  
  


Walking over the rabbits investigating the creature, Derek plucks one up with gentle teeth and helps it, “They call it a ‘kaar’. It’s owner met their death recently.”  
  


“How can you tell?” Stiles asks curiously, sticking his head in to examine the interior. He runs his fingers over the smooth, tight material and wonders how it is made. And how humans made it so  _soft_!  
  


Derek sits outside the kaar’s open side, eyes pointed up at the kaar’s top, “I can still smell blood and magik. I think a coven found the human and took care of it.”  
  


Clambering out of the back of the kaar, Stiles looks down at his magnificent wolf and asks, “Coven?”  
  


His wolf gives the kaar top a significant look. Stiles’ eyes follow his gaze and immediately understands. A skull sits atop the kaar, face pointing forward. There is a large flower tucked through a hole, making it look like the skull is wearing it. Druids are fond of marking their kills in such nature.  
  


It would explain the sudden overgrowth of nature pouring out from the creatures dead mouth. Stiles walks around, sticks his head under the red hood and sniffs the delicate pink flowers. “It will be good shelter for the night at least,” He declares, turning his eyes up at the dark purple sky. The sky lightens to a dull plum shade, lightening flashing somewhere in the distance before its dull roar follows.   
  


From where he’s helping rabbit after rabbit hop into the kaar’s back, Derek says, “Better than that cave you wanted to sleep in.”  
  


“A little too out in the open though,” Stiles frets, looking around the clearing. It doesn’t feel right to rest in this place. It feels too dangerous.  
  


Scoffing loudly, “Who would be foolish enough to attack us.”  
  


Stiles walks up the kaar, leans one arm on the outstretched side and the other on the kaar top before drawling, “The Alpha’s, for starters.”  
  


Huffing and rolling his bright blue eyes as hard as he can, Derek hops into the kaar, “They’re on the other side of the forest remember? Get in and go to sleep already.”  
  


“Pushy,” Stiles complains, even as he climbs in after Derek. He pulls the cart in last, shoving it at the bottom before asking, “What the hell is this?” He grabs the strange circle sticking out before giving Derek a puzzled look.  
  


The wolf huffs, wriggling his nose when a rabbit bounces off his muzzle to sniff curiously at Stiles’ fingers, “Do I look like an expert on humans?” Derek asks.  
  


The rabbit turns to squeak at Derek, shivering when the wolf grooms it quickly before nudging it to his side. He waits for the rabbit to flop down, before gesturing for the next rabbit to come forward. Stiles watches the nightly grooming with fondness, eventually giving up in favor of pulling his map out and charting out today’s path.   
  


He’s busy scribbling on the giant map with his limited collection of colored sticks when a hard nudge against his neck has him turning back in alarm. Two of the rabbits are holding up a strange glowing device between them, it’s tail long and thin.  
  


“What’s this?” Stiles asks in wonder, accepting the thin, white colored item before squinting into the glow. Two circles are etched into it, and strange symbols worn out. The screen is tiny, filled with different symbols matching the bound paper Stiles has collected.   
  


Many of the rabbits observe him but Derek continues with his grooming. Stiles looks up at the content snuffle-growl Derek looks up as he nuzzled one of the rabbits between its ears before licking it’s ears. The rabbit shivers in clear delight.   
  


Stiles smiles, reaches a hand out to rub the rabbit’s soft ear. He does so love these quiet moments. Somehow, as he stretches his arm, the glowing thing in his hand slips out of his grasp. Stiles meeps, fingers fumbling to catch it before it hits the floor. He succeeds to grasp it but something gives under his fingers, causing the bobs on the tail end to release a strange melody. The shock causes the object to slip out of Stiles’ hands anyways.  
  


Everyone jumps at the thunk that results. However, their eyes remain on the thick bobs that are singing. “Is this the human’s idea of a songbird?” Stiles finally asks, looking up into Derek’s sharp eyes.  
  


The wolf’s star burns bright, matching the glow of the mechanical songbird. “I’ve never seen this before,” The wolf finally admits, stretching his neck to sniff from where the song is coming before shaking his head.  
  


Taking it as permission, Stiles picks the songbird up with greater care than before. He eyes the glow for a moment before picking up one of the buds. Carefully, Stiles raises it up to his ear and makes a face.  
  


“I’ve never heard any bird sing a song like this,” He mutters, leaning back against Derek’s haunches. The wolf yawns widely, showing off his fangs before resting his head on top of crossed paws and closes his eyes. Clearly, he is not interested. Stiles rolls his eyes and listens on.  
  


The words and melody flow smoothly, reminding Stiles of the time he’d overheard Lydia charming a sparrow down from it’s perch. It’s the feeling arising in him which helps him make the connection - a strange melancholic feeling.  
  


He finds himself humming along, eyes growing heavy as the first drops of rain begin to fall.   
  


–

  
[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/pb.558917134161144.-2207520000.1407288652./606603792725811/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Fscontent-a-fra.xx.fbcdn.net%2Fhphotos-xfa1%2Ft1.0-9%2F995491_606603792725811_1991154867_n.jpg&size=930%2C960&fbid=606603792725811)]

Derek doesn’t change too often into his human form, but Stiles has noticed his Night Wolf has been walking on two legs more often than four.  
  


As he watches Derek slip out of his pelt, as smoothly as Stiles pulling his mask on or off, Stiles thinks he’ll never tire of the sight. It’s wondrous, to see the magnificent wolf head rising up under the strength of strong finger to reveal the bearded face and sparkling eyes he’s grown so fond of.  
  


Who knew he’d wind up falling for the Night Wolf.  
  


Not him.  
  


Stiles sits by the fire, arms wrapped around his raised knees, observing the way Derek runs a hand through his hair before raking them through his pelt. “Why do you do that?” Stiles asks after a spell, voice soft.  
  


Derek looks up, one eyebrow raised in silent question.  
  


Nodding at Derek’s hands buried near a constellation, Stiles asks, “That.”  
  


“I need to make sure all the stars are in their place.” Derek replies, hand pausing momentarily before he holds it out towards Stiles.  
  


The rabbit stares at the open palm for a moment before putting his hand in Derek’s. He hopes Derek isn’t paying attention to his racing heart. Stiles hopes as hard as he can.  
  


He’s amazed when the wolf gently tugs him forward and puts his hand on Derek’s pelt. The same pelt he’d declared so precious only a few weeks back. He’s letting Stile  _groom him_.  
  


Stiles runs his fingers over the forehead star. What was the name Derek had given it? Sky’s Peak, wasn’t it? The very top of the sky. A fitting place for the brightest star. “They feels so warm,” Stiles murmurs. “I imagined stars to feel cooler.”  
  


The wolf chuckles next to him, legs crossed, pelt thrown over his hips. “There are a few that feel cool. Here,” Stiles holds his breath, wills his heart not to race when Derek takes his hand again and makes him touch a smaller star. “Pluto is the coldest. And this,” Stiles’ fingertip moves to a red tinted dot. “Venus, is the hottest.”  
  


His heart sits in his throat, growing with every fervent beat as Derek’s hands guide his fingertip all over the pelt. Pointing out shapes and figures only the Guardians knew. Stiles listens greedily, soaks all of Derek’s words like a sponge does water and asks for more.  
  


The warm smile Derek gives him (a first!) has Stiles’ trembling. “What more would you like to know then?” The Night Wolf asks.  
  


Stiles breathes out the honest truth. "Everything.“


	4. Satellite Stations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a few links scattered in the fic - images which inspired each drabble. Please check them out!

Before he meets Derek, Stiles’ world is limited to his own forest. All he knows is the space between three points: Scott’s home, Lydia’s lake and the Warden’s den. They are the borders of his world and soon enough, he knows everything there is to know about his territory.  
  


Which is why he begins to travel a little further beyond the borders every day. Ignoring his dad’s many warnings on the subject. His curiosity and thirst for knowledge trumps the need to be careful. If anything were to happen, Stiles decides he can always outrun them. There are few who can outrun a rabbit spirit.   
  


Stiles spends more and more of his time away from home, at his happiest point when he’s wandering around some part of the forest he hasn’t been in before. Which is how he meets Derek.  
  


After meeting Derek, Stiles’ world expands so fast his mind is left reeling. He learns so much so fast he often trips on his own words when trying to explain his experiences to Scott or the others. And at rare times, Stiles is at a loss to adequately explain the things he’s seen.  
  


How do you properly express the terror and awe you feel when seeing  _giants_ walking above you? And not the hulking, lumbering creatures Jackson tells his herd stories about. No. The giants Stiles has seen come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. [One held the form of a woman with many arms and three eyes](http://40.media.tumblr.com/3a596ac794517bfab286f709c9906be4/tumblr_n9z699DOWq1rdbzvxo1_500.jpg). She sat atop a small hill, lazily plucking trees out of the ground while [her sibling tore into the chest of a male giant with more eyes and faces than Stiles could count](http://36.media.tumblr.com/d03041b8436edd65e5e0c961ae5262f4/tumblr_n9z699DOWq1rdbzvxo4_500.jpg).   
  


Jackson scoffs every time Stiles tells the story, saying there’s no way giants are real. Especially not ones with many arms, eyes and grinning mouths.   
  


–  
  


Stiles stares at the stars orbiting [the small deers](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/96199018955/spiritleaf-a-deer-that-catches-stars-in-its) antlers and smiles, “I can see the resemblance.”  
  


Derek snorts his amusement while the deer titters in delight.  
  


“You should keep him Derek. He’s amusing. Dad would like him,” She tells her cousin, shaking her head. The stars hanging on her antlers tinkle and clink coldly, “Show me your pelt please.”  
  


“Where  _is_ Peter these days?” Derek asks, pulling his fur off his shoulders. He holds it out in front of his cousin. Stiles feels his attention torn between sighing admiringly over Derek’s body and observing what Derek’s cousin is doing.  
  


She examines the pelt carefully with her all white eyes, “Mmm, trying to teach Malia the proper way to catch a star without the light burning away. Quiet please.” Three of the stars flicker and speed up their orbit. The star in the middle of her forehead pulses a light so pure white Stiles’ eyes hurt. “There it is,” She murmurs, lowering her antlers until the tips touch Derek’s pelt.  
  


A blink and the shooting star which Derek has been scratching away for days, jumps onto the Star Deer’s antlers.

 

“Wow,” Stiles whispers.  
  


His awestruck gaze remains in place even as she laughs again, small tail wagging behind her.  
  


–  
  


Arms loaded with lilies, the boys return to Scott’s home, where Melissa awaits them.   
  


“We found them!” Scott declares as he steps into the cozy cottage. His small wolf herd lies scattered around the big main room which makes up the ground floor. Several of them raise their heads, a few of them yipping a greeting to their alpha. One comes trotting down the stairs to investigate Scott’s load.  
  


Stiles follows, holding up the bunch in his arms. “They should make lovely pipes for you Melissa!” His rabbits rush through his legs, causing Stiles to stumble and glare but his herd is already busy chittering away with the wolves.  
  


[The Dream Piper](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/97301289440/heroinsight-the-piper-of-dreams-by-ed-org), Melissa, beckons them forward. She’s seated before a large, crackling fire, wispy dress tucked away from the flames. Her gold crown and arm bands shine like liquid gold under the fire light. The smile she directs at her son puts the fire’s warmth to shame.  
  


"How many did you get?“ She asks with a tiny laugh, eyes taking in the flowers piled before her. "I told you boys to bring me just a few!” The brown wolf sitting next to her by the fire raises his head, eyeing the lilies Scott and Stiles lay down in front of Melissa.  
  


“The crop was too good to ignore,” Stiles explains, holding a delicate bloom out for Melissa’s examination. One of his rabbits hops over to join them. It sits on its haunches and watches Melissa rub a petal between her thumb and index finger. “We thought it’d be better to get as many as we could.”  
  


Humming, Melissa turns to eye the pile of birch logs lying nearby on the floor. “I’m going to need more wood if I’m going to use all these lilies…”  
  


Snapping his mask back into place, Stiles grabs Scott by the shoulders and declares, “We’re on it!”  
  


–  
  


[Pointing a finger at the birds skulls woven into Lydia’s hair](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/97379161670), Stiles warily asks, “Those are your failed experiments are they?”  
  


The mermaid sniffs and turns her nose up. Her lips look particularly red today. Stiles wonders if she’s feasted with Heather and her group today, “ _No_. These were a gift from Allison.”  
  


“Oh,” Stiles cranes his head around to have another look. Lydia helpfully turns her back to him, letting him see her hair do once again. “I guess she helped you put your hair up too?”  
  


The mermaid nods, shooting Stiles a sharp toothed grin, “She promised to bring real birds for me next time.”  
  


Sighing tiredly, Stiles asks, “There are better ways to try and get information about the Land than turning birds into your messengers Lydia.”  
  


“Such as?” Lydia asks challengingly, tail slapping against the water.  
  


That’s a good question. Stiles thinks about it for a moment before slapping his leg, “[Kelpies](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/98547794067/lack-lustin-this-was-just-supposed-to-be-a)! They would be perfect!”  
  


The mermaid rolls her eyes, hard, “They’re impulsive, foolish, and far too aggressive to be good messengers! And it takes  _years_ to train a kelpie properly! And they _smell_. Ugh!”  
  


Stiles stares at her for a long minute before asking, “You already tried kelpies didn’t you?”  
  


“They were  _useless_!” Lydia hisses, pupils dilating into slits. Stiles flinches but holds his ground, fingers curling against his leg as Lydia complains long and hard about the time her kelpies had insulted a group of nymph’s by accident and nearly caused a fight to break out between the two parties. “It’s lucky I have some siren blood in me from my mother’s side and I was able to charm their anger away.”  
  


He pulls back a rabbit that’s dangerously close to falling into the lake. It squeaks and kicks its legs angrily. Stiles ignores it in favor of asking, “Was this three summers ago? I think they complained to my dad about a rude horse that tried to eat them.”  
  


Lydia pulls an irritated face, “Like I said,  _useless_  when it comes to being a messenger.”


	5. When the Light Goes Out

[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/858074764245378/?type=1)]  
  


A Warden’s job is never done because there’s always someone who needs protecting. There’s always someone they need to help. They trot from one corner of their territory to another, aiding everyone and anyone along the way.  
  


Allison delicately steps over a puddle, pausing when a dull roar begins to build in the air. Her short fur bristles, hand tightening around her crossbow as she wonders if a forest spirit has been angered and is on a rampage.   
  


In front of her, her dad is similarly frozen. His torso twists, glancing behind her as he hefts his gun up. Dry leaves crunch under his hooves as the dull roaring grows louder. Louder. Louder.  
  


Their eyes sweep up to the cloudy sky where a giant metal bird flies over their heads, cutting off the sun for a split second. Allison starts back, delicate hooves splashing into the puddle she’d tried to avoid.   
  


Her dad grunts, lowering his gun. “Is it Thursday?” He asks, tail slapping his flank.  
  


A quick mental count of their journey matched against a calendar tells her, yes. So she nods and lowers her weapon, making a distasteful expression at her muddied hooves. Great. She hopes they’ll find a stream soon so she can clean herself up.  
  


From ahead, she hears her dad beginning to trot forward again. Resuming their journey. Allison hefts her crossbow over a shoulder before following. But before she starts, her eyes drift back up.  
  


The metal bird has left large plumes of white smoke behind it. She remembers being so much younger than she is now, prancing around Kate’s legs as they travelled. Hiding behind her mother the first time she’d heard the creature’s roar. Remembers flushing at Kate’s laughter.   
  


“It’s just a metal bird,” Kate had said. “We’ll bring it down one day. Take out all the humans riding it.”  
  


Allison sighs at the memory, tugs on the end of her braid and wonders for the umpteenth time why she’d never seen that something saw wrong with Kate. If only she’d paid more attention. If only she hadn’t let love blind her.  
  


If only.   
  


If only.  
  


If only.  
  


–  
  


[ [x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/690107341042122/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Ffbcdn-sphotos-d-a.akamaihd.net%2Fhphotos-ak-xpf1%2Fv%2Ft1.0-9%2F1925160_690107341042122_829863496_n.jpg%3Foh%3Dd291543e45a3edaa713e22737c890bc2%26oe%3D555E7CAC%26__gda__%3D1429305061_2ecff1e888eeca3595c94c600cf66d0f&size=640%2C530&fbid=690107341042122) [x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/725457117507144/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Fscontent-b-mxp.xx.fbcdn.net%2Fhphotos-xfp1%2Fv%2Ft1.0-9%2F10314593_725457117507144_465262864906915856_n.jpg%3Foh%3D10473c1f4df9761d05bded683a76e6c6%26oe%3D556AE304&size=640%2C430&fbid=725457117507144) [x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/729933513726171/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Fscontent-a-mxp.xx.fbcdn.net%2Fhphotos-xaf1%2Fv%2Ft1.0-9%2F10153625_729933513726171_5779045259327869108_n.jpg%3Foh%3Dba2bf090f46a5ddfdae1a591b0276aa8%26oe%3D555C5B01&size=640%2C480&fbid=729933513726171) ]  
  


Derek’s pelt is the strangest, most wonderous thing Stiles has ever seen. And that’s taking into account  _a lot_ of things he’s seen.  
  


It’s just so  _fascinating_ to be able to touch _s_ _tars_. Feel them embedded into Derek’s furry pelt - spots of warm or cold nestled between stretches of silky, smooth fur.   
  


Stiles connects the dots, he knows whispering constellation names that Derek’s taught him. For others he makes new patterns, giving them names and stories he’ll tell Derek later on. Stiles traces a lop sided heart and calls it Night Wolf’s Love. Draws a wolf on Derek’s side and calls it Lupus.   
  


He’ll burn his finger on a few of the stars, hissing as he pulls away before glaring at the offending star. Other stars he’ll poke and twist and play with absent-mindedly while nestled against Derek’s side. They’re familiar beads under his calloused fingers. Comforting. Grounding.   
  


After Derek bathes (which is a fancy way of saying ‘jumps into a lake to wash up’) and dries himself (another fancy way of describing the way he shakes the water off himself), a few stars rattle loose. And Derek will give him this look that says, 'This is your fault’.   
  


Stiles will harumph and shoo away his curious rabbits, not wanting to know what would happen if one of them would eat the star. Would that mean the death of many, many people somewhere out there?  Or would nothing happen?   
  


He makes it a point to be ready whenever Derek clambers out of a lake, fur soaked with water. Stiles will hold a sheet up and yelp as Derek starts to shake himself dry, a few stray drops of water flying over the blanket and dropping on his face. He’ll collect any and all fallen stars before patting them dry and handing them back to Derek.   
  


“Will your cousin… ” Stiles scratches the back of his head before making a few gestures, “Reattach them or make them part of the constellation on her antlers?”  
  


Derek pauses from where he’s grooming himself, tongue hanging out of his mouth for a second before slipping back in. “Depends on the star,” He rubs the back of his paw over his forehead, the star there burning bright.  
  


Stiles sits by, chin propped on both hands as he watches Derek with rapt attention. “Is that star hot or cold?” He asks.  
  


The non-sequitur nature of his questions  _used_ to throw Derek into confusion. Now he just blinks and rolls with it. “Which star?”  
  


A rabbit hops next to Derek’s flank and licks his foot, making a face when it finds there’s too much fur there for him to help Derek with his grooming. Stiles pushes his mask further up, taps the center of his forehead. “That one.”  
  


“Sky’s Peak? Hot. Hotter than any other star I carry.”  
  


Every star on Derek’s body seems to shine brighter after he’s washed. Or maybe it’s his fur which is darker when cleaner, which allows the shines to shine better? Stiles isn’t sure which is the truth yet. It could be both for all he knows.  
  


He crawls forward on all fours, gently nudging a few rabbits out of the way before he holds a hand up towards Derek’s face. “Can I see?”  
  


Derek pulls away. A surprise because Stiles thought they’d been getting closer. That they were more than just casual acquaintances by now.   
  


“You shouldn’t touch it with your bare hands. You might burn yourself. Use something else. The grass. Or some paper.” Derek nods towards the red cart resting against the tree across from them.  
  


Stiles looks at the cart that’s so far away before leaning down to find a suitable blade of grass. After he finds one long enough, he holds it up against the pulsing star.   
  


He holds it there for a second. Another. Another.  
  


Open his mouth to complain that nothing’s happening when the tip begins to smoke.   
  


Stiles feels his jaw dropping when the blade of grass lights up, darting back in surprise. The single blade falls down, burning down to ashes before it hits the ground.   
  


“Told you,” Derek says smugly, fur rippling as he stands up on all fours.  
  


–  
  


[[x](https://www.facebook.com/chiarabautistaartwork/photos/a.558941394158718.1073741828.558917134161144/730453163674206/?type=3&src=https%3A%2F%2Ffbcdn-sphotos-a-a.akamaihd.net%2Fhphotos-ak-xfp1%2Fv%2Ft1.0-9%2F10349012_730453163674206_7718207402608389579_n.jpg%3Foh%3Ded5972c52952fdc99320e3aa45b8ab8c%26oe%3D552350DC%26__gda__%3D1428836949_3dc093c9cff72bb6c167ee844fded7bd&size=640%2C428&fbid=730453163674206)]  
  


He thinks he got this wanderlust from his mother.  
  


Or maybe.  
  


It's  _because_ of her. Because of what happened to her.  
  


She died too soon.   
  


A tragedy, such a shame, I’m so sorry for your loss.  
  


It’s a new, magical world they live in. Where [forest](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/108264122845/theartofanimation-stephanie-pui-mun-law) [spirits](http://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/105606548350/asylum-art-alexandra-khitrova-fantasy), druids, necromancers, and giants walk amongst them. Anything and everything is possible now that magic is prevalent.  
  


Stiles has the faintest memory of a distant hope. That maybe if he travelled far enough, looked hard enough, he might find some way to bring his mom back.  
  


Instead, he found Derek.  
  


And he follows him. Happily, willingly.   
  


Chases after the Night Wolf as he races through the dark forests, running so fast his stars twinkle in his wake. It’s almost as though Derek’s running so fast, his stars are falling off him.  
  


Stiles follows swiftly, grinning as he runs through the constellations Derek leaves in his wake, only a step behind because you can’t outrun a rabbit spirit. Even if you  _were_ a Night Wolf.  
  


He started his journey out of a painful determination, and continues it now because he can’t imagine leaving Derek. Can’t imagine being somewhere where Derek isn’t. Can’t imagine going to sleep anywhere that isn’t Derek’s side.  
  


Stiles stares up at the black sky, feels Derek inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, against his back. And closes his eyes. Prays for his mom to forgive him. Hopes she’ll understand. Turns over to tuck his face into Derek’s fur, and tries to ignore the heavy leaden feeling in his chest. 


End file.
